


Circle

by Lyds and Ally (thunderandlightning)



Series: The Forty-Nine Trials of Lydia Martin [1]
Category: Circle - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Lot of Death, F/F, Gen, Minor Character Death, Stealth Crossover, foregone conclusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 19:46:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19235881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderandlightning/pseuds/Lyds%20and%20Ally
Summary: Warning: The tags are not a joke, though this ficdoes notcontain gore. If you can't handle a lot of people being murdered, you probably want to skip this one.





	Circle

Lydia woke up with a gasp, thanks to a loud air horn blaring in the room she found herself in. Overpopulation in the United States had prompted the political leaders to make a decision, even though it was highly controversial and very few people agreed with it. Instead of waiting around for volunteers to sacrifice themselves for the good of the nation, the politicians instructed the military to seize control of each state and force citizens to submit. 

“Where the fuck are we?” The man to her right demanded. “What is this place? How did we get here?”

“Obviously, we’re here because the rich bastards in D.C. can’t be bothered to give up some of their money, in favor of making sure we have more food and shelter.” An old man grumbled. He eyed the device in the center of the room. “What is that, a camera? Are you getting off on watching us?” He took a step toward the device. A bolt of electricity shot out, striking the man and knocking him to the floor. 

A little girl wailed. “Mommy!” 

A few spaces away from her, the girl’s mother tried - and failed - to hide the panic in her voice. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. He’s just taking a nap.” 

“Don’t lie to her!” The man to Lydia’s right called out. “Hey, sweetheart.” He mocked the mother as he spoke to the little girl. “That man died because he was yelling at people who are probably sitting behind a tv monitor, eating popcorn and laughing at us.” 

“Don’t move.” The mother told her daughter firmly, ignoring the man. “And don’t listen to him. We’ll be okay.” 

“Will we, though?” A guy with green hair sneered. “They want to weed us out. So what we need to do is shut the fuck up and outlast anyone who wants to say anything.” His eyes darted nervously toward the device, betraying his fear. 

A display lit up on each of the four walls, counting down from two minutes. 

An old woman made a whimpering noise, from beside the little girl. A dark stain spread over her pants. 

“Mommy, this lady peed.” The little girl wrinkled her nose as she turned her head to look toward her mother. 

“It’s okay.” The mother remarked, cringing when a few people laughed and muttered to themselves. “Shut up!” She snapped. “Of course she’s scared. We’re all...” She stopped, realizing she was saying too much in front of her daughter. “We just have to be still for this countdown, and maybe they’ll let us go.” 

“You’re far too optimistic, dear.” The old lady’s voice shook as she spoke, though it was more from old age than her fear. “At my age, this is a fairly common event. I suppose I should apologize for the smell, but if the rude little bastard over there is right, we’re all going to die, anyway.” 

“Yeah, some of us before others.” A blonde woman in business attire remarked, eyeing the urine stain on the woman’s clothes with disgust. “How about you do us a favor and step off your circle like the guy before you, and maybe someone will come through with a mop?” 

“You can’t just command someone to die!” A man in a police uniform blurted. “We need a plan.” He eyed the clock. There was less than a minute to go. “Maybe it’s just if we step off of the circles, entirely? If we keep one foot on our circle and one foot on someone else’s, we could move around and maybe look for a door. We had to be brought in here somehow, didn’t we?” 

“He’s right.” A man in a camo uniform called out. “We didn’t just teleport into this place.” 

“Yeah, like we’re going to trust you?” Green Hair rolled his eyes. “You probably helped design this thing. Hey, you’re probably some kind of fucking ringer, right? We’re all supposed to kill ourselves or each other, and then you report back on how long it took? Are you going to tell them how Granny over here took a piss the second her boyfriend died?” 

“Shut up!” A preteen girl screamed. “I don’t want to be here. I want to go home!” 

Nobody spoke for the next few seconds, all eyes transfixed on the countdown in their line of sight. A tone sounded when the timer zeroed out, and a blonde woman shrieked as a blue bolt shot out, ending the life of the man in front of her. The timer reset itself to two minutes and started counting down, again. 

“Okay.” The soldier licked his lips. “First of all, I didn’t know a fucking thing about this.” 

“Could you stop swearing in front of my daughter?” The mother snapped. 

“Lady, people are being murdered in front of her and assaulting her nostrils with the scent of piss.” The soldier retorted. “I don’t think a swear word is gonna destroy her life. If she even makes it out of here.” 

“You really think they’d kill kids?” The preteen girl looked around, terrified, at all of the adults who suddenly wouldn’t meet her gaze. “But I’m only twelve!” She rubbed her eyes behind her glasses, then took them off and dragged her sleeve across her face. “I don’t want to die. It’s not fair.” 

“Maybe that’s what they want. Maybe we’re supposed to just kill ourselves until only the kids are left.” The old woman suggested. 

“That’s preposterous!” The mother shook her head. “I’m not committing suicide so that my daughter can grow up an orphan.” 

“Oh, great. A welfare mum.” A man with a British accent said sarcastically. “People like you are the reason we’re all here today.” 

“Welf- I am not.” The mother looked around, defensive. “I’m not! My husband died two years ago. I’ve been working two part-time jobs and trying to raise my daughter on my own, because one full-time job wouldn’t give me the chance to do that.” She stood up straight, her tone suddenly more hopeful and forceful. “Her name is Lucy. I’m Tessa. We’re people. We might be strangers to you right now, but I think if we try, we can all make it out of here together and -” 

“Time’s up.” Green Hair nodded to the clock on the wall opposite him, as the timer went from one second to zero. Yellow lights illuminated the soldier and the old lady. The timer started counting down again, this time from thirty. 

“Why did it do that?” Tessa frowned. “I was just thinking about how I...” She looked toward Lucy, falling silent again.

“We all were.” Green Hair smirked. “So that’s the trick then, isn’t it? We have to vote for the person we want to die, and somehow, they have the technology to know what our decision is.” 

Through all of this, Lydia stayed silent. She looked from the soldier to the old woman, then sighed to herself and clenched her fist, feeling a strange tingle in her forearm. The old woman dropped to the floor. Panels opened in the walls, and the corpses slid out of the room as though they were being pulled by magnets. Liquid sprayed across the floor, and disappeared just as quickly, taking the scent of urine with it. 

“So we all voted for her, didn’t we?” Green Hair laughed, shaking his head. “I was right. We have to vote. We’ve got about ninety seconds to decide on who’s next.” 

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” The man to Lydia’s right - a priest, judging by his outfit - spoke loudly, frowning at her. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” 

“Me?” Lydia blurted. “First of all, I’m thinking about the fact that if we’re dealing with this, our friends and family members are, too. We don’t even know who we’ll see, if any of us make it out of this alive. They could be dying right now.” 

“Will you shut the fuck up?” The preteen girl with the glasses screamed. 

Green Hair snickered. “Rage issues.” 

“Being confronted with mortality can do that to a person.” Lydia looked around the room. “I think we can agree that we’re not voting for Tessa and Lucy, right?” 

“We have to, eventually.” Green Hair pointed out. “Look, even if it came down to the two of them, you know the ultimate goal is to wipe out the population of this country as much as they can. They’re probably not letting them both walk out of here.” 

“But we don’t know that.” Lydia argued. “And Lucy isn’t the only kid in this room. Look around you.” 

“Honestly, we’d be doing them a favor if we got rid of the kids right now.” The man to Lydia’s right said easily. She found herself wondering if he was a priest at all, when he spoke again and confirmed it. “We can have more kids later. Or at least, all of you can.” 

“You’re disgusting.” Tessa scoffed. 

“Fuck this.” Green Hair muttered. “Look, there are two circles. So let’s just take turns getting rid of the garbage people from one circle or the other, you know?” 

“Oh, and you get to decide who’s garbage?” The man to Lydia’s right smirked. 

“You think _you_ do?” The woman with rainbow hair finally spoke up. “Typical man.” She snorted. “You think you have all the answers, don’t you? I’d like to see you try to come up with the answer that won’t lead to everyone here wanting to see you fry.”

“No one here is garbage.” Another woman muttered, the tattoo of a name visible against her clavicle. “But it looks like the kid with the green hair is right about one thing, at least.” She folded her arms over her chest, carefully refraining from looking across the circle. “The endgame is to do away with as many people as possible. And if we don’t make the choice…” She shuddered and looked down. 

“Show of hands.” Green Hair called out. “We get rid of the kids first, so that we won’t have to worry about them having to choose which one of them gets to live, when they’re the only ones left. You do get that, right?” He looked around. “If we all kill ourselves and leave them to decide, then you’re forcing them to kill themselves, later on. Or kill each other. Look, I know I sound shitty, all right? But we might as well mercy kill them now, and get it over with.” 

“Over my dead body.” Tessa scowled. 

Green Hair laughed. “Hey, that’s probably what it’s going to take, anyway.” 

Several people looked distinctly uncomfortable at the revelation, refusing to look at the kids within their own circle. When the timer zeroed out again, Green Hair was the one with the most votes, and he didn’t have much of an opinion on anything, after that. 

After a few seconds, a younger man with a strung-out look in his eyes shrugged and said, “I’m not gonna be the one to let kids kill kids. It’s not going to matter in the end, anyway. I’ve done shitty things, and going out with a kid’s life on my hands will just be one more thing.”

“Great.” An exhausted-sounding older woman with gray hair looked around. She didn’t speak very loudly, but she lifted a hand to get the attention of people around her. “My name is Evelyn.” She began. “I’ve lived a long enough life, and I refuse to vote for children to die. So I’m going to save you lot some trouble and step off of my circle. I don’t want to hear any objections. I just want all of you to remember me when I’m gone.” She said firmly. “Is that understood? I don’t want any part of this. I refuse to play these games.” 

The man standing in Catholic vestments to Lydia’s side gazed at Evelyn, his expression gentle. “You _will_ be remembered.” He assured her. “I promise you.”

“Sure, now you show kindness.” Tessa muttered. “I guess my child isn’t important to you, since she doesn’t have a penis.” She gave the priest a scathing look and raised her voice. “I say we vote for him! He’s probably a pedophile, anyway.” 

“You don’t know that.” Evelyn looked horrified. 

“No? Well, if we’re going to get rid of people who deserve to go, then I say we make an example of someone who participates in a religion that indulges itself in sexual assault.” Tessa cleared her throat. 

“She’s just deflecting, to try to save her daughter.” The priest said calmly. He turned his attention back to Evelyn. “God be with you.” He nodded to her. 

Evelyn stepped forward. 

“Convenient that you’re fine with suicide if it saves your own ass, Padre.” An extremely overweight man looked anxious as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I guess you’re going to expect me to go, next. We’re trying to decide on the best and brightest, aren’t we? So that leaves me out. Face it, if our population is being decreased this rapidly, then what we need to do is figure out who’s smart enough and healthy enough to survive.” He sighed, laughing softly, then wiped tears out of his eyes. “Yeah, that leaves me out. So I’ll die before that timer goes off again, but I want to ask one thing, first.” He turned toward Tessa. “What does happen, exactly, if it comes down to you or your daughter? Would you kill yourself then? Or would you convince her to die and save you?” 

“I refuse to answer that.” Tessa said sharply. 

“Why?” The preteen girl in glasses demanded. “My mom would save me. I know she would. I wish she was here, but she’s not. So if you don’t want to answer, that means that you’re thinking about saving yourself. If it comes down to the two of you.” 

“Mommy?” Lucy sounded terrified. 

“You’re not doing anyone any favors by acting all high-and-mighty,” an older man drawled, gazing at Tessa from across the circle. He hooked his hands around the edges of his vest and tilted his head back, a low ponytail swinging behind him. He nodded toward the device. “They’re not gonna let you live, sweetheart. But they do kinda seem like they wanna know what sort of people we are. We put the old lady out of her misery. We shut that little upstart up, when he opened his mouth to even bring the idea up. Evelyn just sacrificed herself. You sayin’ you don’t know what you’ll do if it came down to you and that sweet little girl of yours? Or is the kid right?” He shook his head. “Only a couple of reasons why you wouldn’t wanna answer that fella’s question, and none of those reasons are makin’ you out to look like a saint right now.”

“Time’s almost up.” Lydia interrupted. “What’s your name?” She asked the overweight man.

“That’s not important.” The man smiled to himself. He waved a hand, then stepped off of his circle. 

“I say we vote for the mother.” A weasel-faced man in a suit and tie spoke up. “Once she’s gone, if we really want to get rid of the kids, we won’t have to hear her complaining about it. I know it’s not a fun decision, but it’s a decision. And it saves her from having to kill her daughter, later on.” 

“Fuck you.” The preteen girl snapped. 

“Bad word.” Lucy whined, putting her hands over her ears. 

“Bloody hell, let’s just do it. Unless anyone else wants to volunteer themselves right now?” The British man looked around, clearing his throat nervously and adjusting his glasses. 

There was an unnerving silence, but no one else stepped forward. A teen wearing a letterman’s jacket spoke up, then. “I’m not saying I’ve got more of a right to live than she does, but… like, if the kid with the glasses is right, the chick over there wasn’t thinking about letting her kid survive anyway, right? So like…” he grimaced. “Maybe weasel dude over here has a point and we should just vote for you.” He told Tessa. 

“It’s not like I can stop you, right?” Tessa asked tearfully. “Lucy, sweetheart, listen to me. Mommy loves you. I love you, sweetheart.” She looked around. “I won’t give any of you the satisfaction.” She snapped, then stepped off of her circle. 

The rainbow-haired woman rolled her eyes. “Over-dramatic,” She muttered to herself. 

The teenager standing near Lucy leaned as close as she dared without stepping off of her circle. “Hey,” she whispered, smiling gently. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Her mind raced, trying to think of how to distract the six-year-old. It would help distract her, too, from her own inevitable death, since she didn’t think for an instant that anyone there would care about letting her live.

“We could make it fairer, and faster.” The weasel-faced man in the suit suggested. “Count off by tens and we all agree on a number, and that group has to step off of the circles.” 

“Why?” Lydia rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Do you have somewhere you need to be right now? Let’s just go back to voting. It was easier.” 

“The truth is, if you speak, you’re a target.” The British man commented dryly. “Seems I’ve done myself a disservice, then.” He looked at Lydia. “I advise you to stay silent from this point forward.” He held his hand out and clenched his fist, his gaze focused on the timer in his line of vision. 

The strung-out boy stared at the British man with a bemused expression on his face, then looked at Lydia. “I mean, pretty much everybody’s a target.” He muttered. “Doesn’t matter if you speak or not, right?”

Lydia nodded, smiling grimly. But she thought that the other man had a point, too. She looked around the circle, then made her decision, clenching her fist to cast her vote. She felt sick to her stomach, but she understood survival of the fittest and she was going to stay alive as long as she could, even if she only had mere moments to do that. 

Weasel-face’s corpse was removed from the floor and the timer reset. 

“The fat guy had it right.” A man with a bad comb-over looked smug. “We need the best and brightest, not a bunch of weaklings with no brain power.” 

“Yeah, they tried that in the forties, you utter moron.” A blonde girl in a red dress shook her head. “It didn’t work out then, either.” She waved a hand toward her identical twin sister. “We were at the mall when we were taken. They pumped some kind of gas into the fitting rooms and we passed out. How do we know that when there’s only one of fifty left from every single trial here, that they won’t just do it again? Can we even be sure that it’s our government? Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Like what, aliens?” The cop scoffed. 

“Like assholes from a patriarchal society that are trying to make everyone else submit to their authority.” Rainbow snapped at him.

“Okay, or it could be a secret organization that’s charged themselves with saving humanity.” A tall, skinny teen with thick glasses suggested. He pushed a finger against the frame of his glasses, pushing them higher up the bridge of his nose as he looked around. 

“I’m pretty sure the Nazis thought they were saving the world, too.” The twin in the red dress remarked. “Are we sure that this isn’t a test? What if the others aren’t even dead? We could be tasked with trying to figure out which one of us, of the fifty, is the worst person.” 

“Are you stupid or something? They’re dead. They’re being murdered. The guys in Washington decided that our population was so out of control that we have to be culled like deer.” The cop snapped. “It wouldn't surprise me if they somehow opted out of this.” 

“We didn’t.” A woman corrected. “These things... there’s actually nobody watching us. The device is pre-programmed.” She took a deep breath. “To make sure we all stayed honest, we got our implants embedded into our hands. Together. That’s how we’re voting.” She lifted her hand, showing off a glowing light emanating from her palm. “I’ll admit that we had to agree to offer immunity from this to a small team of doctors, to make sure that they survived long enough to remove the controls from the hands of survivors. But no, there’s not a single politician who escaped this... this culling. As it were.”

“Wait, what?” The other twin blurted. “So even our President is...” 

“I’m afraid so.” The politician nodded. “He accepted that he would more than likely be the first one to be eradicated, within his own trial. But even if everyone who has ever held an office is...”

“Culled.” The cop muttered. 

“Yes. Culled.” The politician shook her head, sighing. “It won’t be our responsibility to maintain order, anymore. Those of you who remain will be on your own and have to decide on things for yourselves.” 

“So… no government?” A man with a thick Hispanic accent asked. “Or at least… not the same sort of government.”

“We’re in trouble.” The teen boy with the glasses muttered, folding his arms over his chest and snorting derisively. 

While they had been talking, the timer had zeroed out again, and a blast of electricity hit a woman in torn up jeans and a ragged sweatshirt. 

“So… this is - you aren’t getting off scot-free.” A timid-looking woman with black hair said softly. “You’re all as much a victim to this as we are.”

“We’re not victims.” The older man in the vest laughed. “We’re cattle.”

“Kids can’t run the country. Have you even read _Lord of the Flies_?” A man in a bathrobe and sandals, who had been silent since waking up in the room, shook his head. “And I don’t care if I’m dead and gone, I’m not leaving this country to a bunch of...” He waved a hand toward some of the darker-skinned people in the room. “You.” 

“Thanks for signing your death warrant.” The British man waved at the man in the bathrobe, then clenched his fist. 

Lydia did the same, frowning to herself at the feeling of relief that settled over her, knowing that she was getting rid of someone who deserved it. She didn’t want to think that anyone deserved to die. She definitely didn’t like how easily she had become the sort of person who could be calm about sentencing someone else to death. 

“All right. I have an idea.” A guy in a black baseball cap made a face as the man in the bathrobe died. He cleared his throat. “I kind of wish they’d given us bottles of water or cough drops. Does anyone else feel like they could use a cigarette break?” He smirked when a few people laughed and murmured in agreement. “I don’t even smoke. Anyway, maybe we should just stick to an either-or kind of thing? I mean, I don’t think I’m going to survive this. I don’t want to keep voting for anyone. But I know that if I don’t, I’m going to die. If I do, I’m going to die. If it comes to me and one of these kids, I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He looked toward the preteen girl. “It’s easy to say that I’d save one of you. But I think anyone would say that, if they thought it would get them to the end of this. And we don’t know what the world will be like, either. Do we really want to let that little girl leave here, knowing her mom is gone?” He gestured to Lucy, who had been crying since her mom was removed from the room. “I’m not saying mercy kill. That’s bullshit. But... well, she’s already screwed. I’m sorry. Anyway, I think...” He glanced at the timer, then started speaking faster. “If we take turns giving everyone else an option of this person or that person, then everyone can vote for someone to die and the responsibility would fall on the shoulders of the one who gave them the choice. So they’d probably be next, but if you think it through, that’s kind of a shitty way to pay someone back. We want out of here. We can’t all leave. So, can we just do it that way?” 

“I think that’s fair.” The politician said softly. She patted her pockets, then pulled a pack of gum out of one of them. “I don’t know if this violates a rule.” She muttered. “But this might help you.” She threw the gum to the guy in the baseball cap. “Since it’s your idea, you go first. And we’ll just go around the circle. But the kids can opt out, if they want to.” She nodded toward Lucy. “Or we’ll just skip them.” Her tone became more stern a second later as she looked at a girl in a college t-shirt, standing beside the guy in the baseball cap. “And if you suggest him as an option, you’re only putting a target on your back.” 

The coed nodded frantically. “Yes, ma’am.” She whisper-yelled. Immediately, she started looking around the room for two candidates she could recommend in a vote. 

Before the guy in the baseball cap could make any suggestions for a vote, Lucy screamed for her mother and ran toward one of the panels that was being used to remove former competitors. 

Lydia closed her eyes, but she couldn’t escape the zapping sound or the thud of Lucy’s corpse hitting the floor. 

“Oh my god, why would she do that?!” The preteen girl shrieked. 

“She was just a little girl, honey.” An older woman said softly. “I don’t think she even understood what we’re dealing with. It’s okay. She’s with her mother, now.” 

“Sure, if you believe that sort of thing.” The cop muttered. 

“We need to move on.” The politician insisted, but her voice shook. “You. Nonsmoker.” She waved a hand toward the man in the baseball cap. “Just choose two people. We’ll take it from there.” 

“Right.” The man laughed bitterly and spit his piece of gum back into the wrapper he had taken it out of. “We’re all going to die and I’m a little irritated that this is spearmint instead of cinnamon. I hate this.” He looked up. “Self-serving priest and the twin in the red dress.” He murmured, pointing to each of them. 

“Well, I know who I’m voting for, then.” The other twin murmured. She shrugged at the priest. “No hard feelings, Father. I expect her to keep me alive as long as she can, too.” 

“I guess I can try.” The woman in the red dress smiled sadly. 

“I forgive you. Jesus does, as well.” The priest nodded. He watched the voting happen around him. 

Seconds later, the twins exchanged relieved looks as the priest’s body was removed from the room. 

“It’s your turn.” The guy in the baseball cap told the young woman beside him. “What’s your name?” 

“It doesn’t matter, but it’s Autumn.” Autumn said quietly. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked around. She had already made her decision about who she was putting up for a vote, but she felt guilty about it. “Um... what’s your name?” She asked the guy who had suggested the new voting method, trying to stall for time.

“Just name someone!” The guy with the comb-over snapped. 

“Hey, shut up!” The cop yelled back. “We’ve got more than a minute, and she looks like she might faint. Let her take a few more seconds.” 

“If she faints, she dies.” Comb-over leered at Autumn like he was a salivating dog being offered a steak. 

“Ignore them. My name is Eric.” The guy in the baseball cap said gently. “Just talk like you’re talking to me. Don’t worry about the rest of them. Who do you nominate?” 

“Nominate.” Autumn repeated. “Right.” She was glad that she had waited, since the cruel man had caused her to change her mind. She pointed to him with her right hand, then over at the soldier with her left hand.

“Me?!” The soldier yelled. “Why would you pick me?” 

Autumn sounded hesitant as she spoke. “Sir, you volunteered yourself to die for your country, right? This country?” 

Eric laughed. “Oh man, she’s got you there.” 

“You know she can’t be your girlfriend when this is over, right?” Comb-over spoke in a simpering voice. “At least one of you will be dead and gone. You’ve got no need to protect her.” 

“I’m not protecting her.” Eric said defensively. “But I’m not going to let anybody else scream at her for making the decision I caused her to have to make. We all did, really. You guys agreed to this plan. Now you have to deal with it. It’s the best way to go about it, and you know I’m right.” 

“Fuck this country.” The soldier snapped. “And fuck all of you.” 

“You’re just mad because you got drafted.” Eric smirked. 

“Excuse me.” The young boy beside Autumn, who had been wiggling around for the past few minutes, raised his hand. “I really need to go to the bathroom. I’m sorry for interrupting, but I don’t want to pee my pants like that lady did earlier. Is it okay if you guys close your eyes, so I can go?” 

“We can do that.” Autumn said kindly, looking around the room as if to challenge anyone to argue with her. She put her left hand over her eyes, her right fist clenched. She wanted the man on the little boy’s other side, the guy with the comb-over, to be the next to go. But she also believed in her reasoning for choosing the soldier, and she knew that if other people agreed with her, it would buy some time for a little while. He would keep being nominated until it was his turn, or he died. 

A few seconds later, the little boy spoke again. “Okay, I’m done. Thank you.” He looked up at Autumn when she uncovered her eyes. “Who should I vote for?” 

“I don’t think you should vote at all.” Autumn admitted. 

Comb-over laughed. “He’ll have to, if he hasn’t started yet.” 

“I think I’ll vote for you.” The boy told Comb-over. “You’re not a nice person.” 

“Nice people don’t survive very long in the world.” Comb-over retorted. 

“I guess you’ll never find out whether or not that’s true.” Eric muttered. “I’m voting for you, too. Just so you know. Even if that’s the last thing you ever hear.” 

Comb-over didn’t have time to argue, and then he was gone. 

The little boy looked around at all of the adults, a serious expression on his face. “I think I should take my turn, because it’s only fair.” He bit his lip. “But there are a lot more women here than men, and I don’t want to be mean, but I think maybe it makes more sense for me to pick two women?” 

“That’s a good idea.” The politician nodded in fond approval. 

“We shouldn’t be encouraging this.” The cop grimaced. 

“He deserves to help us eliminate people, to give himself a fighting chance at survival.” The politician argued. 

“The lady with the paint on her shirt, and the lady in the polka dots.” The boy spoke over the arguing adults. “Neither one of them has said anything since we got here, even though lots of other people have been saying they don’t want to die.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to die, fool!” The woman in the polka dot shirt snapped. 

“Danielle.” A blonde woman in a pink polo shirt shook her head. “He’s a little boy. Don’t yell at him.” 

“He’s trying to kill me, Heather.” Danielle snapped. “I think I have the right to say some shit about that.” 

“You can say as much as you want to about it, but if it wasn’t him nominating you, it would be someone else. So shut the fuck up and stop snapping at a kid who has just as much of a right to survival as you do,” the woman with the tattoo snapped at Danielle.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Rainbow Hair snorted. “You’re just as bad as some of the men here, aren’t you? You’re all about giving that kid a chance at survival that you won’t let Danielle have, but that _kid_ is a boy, who is going to grow up into a man who is probably going to do his best to stomp women like… _you_ underfoot. That’s what happens when you give any man a chance, the patriarchy takes over!”

“Oh my god,” the teenage girl in the Winnie the Pooh t-shirt (who had tried to comfort Lucy after the child’s mother had died) stared at Rainbow in disbelief. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I think someone mentioned Nazis earlier…” A woman with a haircut like a flapper from the Roaring Twenties snorted.

“Sheesh!” The little boy blurted, looking around. “Can you guys hurry up and vote?” He waved his hands in the direction of the countdown clocks. 

“You’re not voting?” The politician tilted her head, giving the boy a thoughtful look. “What’s your name?” 

“Carter.” The boy replied. “And I don’t think I should vote, since I chose the people to vote for. It would make it unfair.”

The politician smiled. “That’s one of the smartest things I’ve heard all day. Probably all year.” 

“How old are you?” The cop asked Carter. 

“I’m nine.” Carter glanced pointedly at the timer. “How old are you?” 

The cop chuckled. “I’m thirty-five.” He waved a hand at Carter, then clenched his fist to indicate that he was voting. 

“I’m a kindergarten teacher.” The woman with the paint on her shirt whined. “I provide a valuable service to the community! I deserve to stay alive.” 

The cop rolled his eyes. “Lady, kindergarten is optional. And in case you haven’t been paying attention, keeping you means getting rid of the kids.” 

“She was my teacher.” The preteen girl with the glasses called out. “She’s not very good at her job. When we got to first grade, we didn’t know half of the things we were supposed to know, and she almost got fired. She just made us take naps all the time.” 

“It seems that most of you know one another.” The British man remarked. “I just moved to the area. I’ve lived in the States for a few years, now.” 

“I was on vacation.” The cop glanced from one woman to the other, as the timer stopped. The woman with the polka dot shirt was removed from the room as he kept speaking. “But at least now I know they actually checked our citizenship.” He snorted, shaking his head. “What do you think happens when this ends? The whole country is going to feel like a ghost town.” 

“Not really.” Lydia’s voice was raspy from held-back screams, every time someone died. “Six and a half million people is still a lot.” 

“Yeah, that’s a third of the population of New York City.” The cop glanced around. “Where I'm from.” 

“It’s less than the population of Chicago, too.” The kindergarten teacher looked nervous, mouthing an apology at the preteen. 

“Are we gonna stand around here, debating numbers that don’t mean shit, or are we going to keep voting?” A man in a suit adjusted his tie. “If we don’t vote, the machine kills randomly, and it might be you.” 

“Fine.” The preteen girl with the glasses huffed. “Then I nominate you and hearing aids guy, beside you.” She gestured toward the man who was practically hunched over with age. “He’s going to die soon anyway, so if everyone’s smart, they’ll get rid of you.” There was a clear challenge in her voice. 

“Do you know him?” The politician asked calmly, looking from the girl to the man in the suit. 

“No.” The girl shook her head. “But he’s so eager for people to die, and that’s gross.” 

Carter looked from one man to the other, then cast his vote.

When the timer ended this time, both men had lights shining down on them. 

“Don’t change your vote!” The kindergarten teacher cried out. “They’ll both be removed. It’ll make things easier on us.” 

“Easier, right.” The preteen rolled her eyes. “Because PTSD for watching forty-nine people die in front of you is a great way to start your new life.” 

“You have to admit that she has a point, Glasses.” Eric shrugged. 

One of the women who hadn’t yet spoken, too unnerved by the proceedings in front of her, let out an audible swallow and began chewing at her fingernail. A terrified-sounding laugh escaped her throat as she watched the two men. “It’s only going to matter for one person in the end,” she pointed out. “So unless it’s you…” She glanced at the teacher. “Do you really think not changing the vote will make a difference?” There was a hysterical note tinging her voice, and she made no attempt to hold it back.

“If you’re that freaked out, why don’t you just step off?” An old man in dark sunglasses called out. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened to me yet, but I suppose now that I’ve gone ahead and said something, I’m going to be dead soon enough. Who cares who lives and dies in this room? We all go at some point, and if you’re really that scared of all the things you never got to do, it’s your own fault for not having done any of them in the first damned place. I’d give anything to have my sight back, but I guess it would only last me another hour or so. That’s if I was lucky. Just shut up and take a short walk, all of ya. I’m sick of hearing the whining. I’m a little jealous of whoever it is that has hearing aids. He’s a lucky guy.” Two thumps sounded from the men who had tied, as they hit the floor. “ _Was_ a lucky guy.” 

There was nothing but silence for several seconds as the clock reset, and the panels opened to remove the corpses. Eventually it proved to be too much for one of the remaining women. A tall, skinny woman with brown hair blurted, “I don’t want to die. I’m just putting that out there - I know that it’s probably going to happen, and that I won’t really have much choice in it, but… I don’t want to die.” 

Rainbow Hair gave the woman a withering look. “And the rest of us do?”

“It’s my turn.” The twin in the red dress interjected. “And I nominate the scared old woman and the blind guy. He said he saw this coming.” She cringed. “I mean, you know. Not saw, but whatever.” 

“Jesus.” Tattoo Lady muttered, putting a hand over her face, even as she reluctantly clenched her fist and silently voted. If there was an afterlife, and an omniscient higher being watching over all of this, she hoped that she wouldn’t be judged too harshly. She hoped she wouldn’t be judged at all, really. Her eyes flickered across the circle to the one person whose gaze she hadn’t managed to meet thus far. If she had to die, she prayed it would happen before she had to watch it happen to her wife.

“I can’t do this.” Anna shook her head, finally looking across the circle at Zoe, who had ‘Anna’ tattooed on her neck in wide, looping script. It was Anna’s own handwriting, and she hadn’t thought Zoe was serious about the tattoo until she saw it inked onto her wife’s skin, three years earlier. Happy years, and now they were going to mean nothing. “I can’t keep going on with this. I’m sorry. I need to know that you forgive me. I don’t need you to leave with me, you know? But I have to go.” 

Zoe shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Maybe you don’t need me to leave with you, but what am I supposed to do once you’re gone?” She asked quietly. “I won’t survive long without you.” She took a deep breath. “I forgive you, if you forgive me.”

“You know that I do.” Anna smiled and took a deep breath, then stepped forward, off of her circle. 

Zoe mimicked her, taking a deep, shaky breath as she stepped off her own circle, toward her wife. Her hand was in the process of reaching toward Anna when her body fell to the ground.

Seconds later, the blind man and the old woman followed suit, and all four were removed via the panels in the walls. 

The man standing beside the twin in the red dress shrugged both shoulders and gestured to two of the people. “Rainbow Hair and letterman’s jacket.” He called out. “For no other reason than you’re standing side by side and I don’t need justification for doing what I’m expected to do.” 

“God, yes, thank you.” The strung-out man muttered, pointing at Rainbow Hair. “I’m gonna be blunt - I’m sick of your face, and I’m sick of the way you talk.” He clenched his hand.

“I think we all are. Picking on a little kid because he has a penis.” The politician shook her head as she clenched her fist, her words meant for the woman who had been deriding men since their arrival in the room. “You’re no better than a pedophile yourself, you know? Targeting someone so young, the way you did. Just because your motivation is a little different, that doesn’t make you better.” 

Rainbow Hair scoffed in disbelief. “I disagree.” She replied flatly. “I think it makes me ten times better than the rest of you, because no one else here is willing to call it out the way that I did!” She pointed at Carter. “If I thought for a second that he would survive this, and that the rest of you could see what he’d become -”

“That won’t happen.” The old man with the vest replied, a flinty look in his eyes. “Not just because only one of us is going to walk out of here, but because you’ve been talkin’ out your ass since you’ve been here, and half of the shit you say is deliberately designed to provoke.”

“He’s a child.” The quiet woman with black hair said, shaking her head. “Life experience dictates who you grow into, and unless he survives today, he’ll never be what you think he is. You’re cold, and callous and cruel, and you may think that you’re standing up for something righteous, but you’re not. You’re a monster.” She clenched her fist shut, staring hard at Rainbow Hair.

An Italian guy with slicked-back hair waited until the door panels closed and removed the irate woman’s corpse before he spoke. “I’m gonna say both of the twins. Nothin’ personal, sweets. Just seems cruel to only pick one of ya at a time, instead of putting you both up at once.” 

“In what universe?!” The twin in the red dress rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not voting. Don’t you dare vote for me, Becca!” She called out to her twin. “And Guido over here can’t vote, either. So that’s twenty-six votes. If you guys split it thirteen and thirteen, we’re both out.” 

The boy in the letterman’s jacket clapped his hands together. “Awesome, so it’s decided then.” He waved a hand at Becca. “Everyone in her half of the circle, vote for her. Everyone in the other one’s half of the circle, vote for her, mission accomplished.”

“Shut up and let us count.” The cop muttered. “I’m voting for Red Dress.” He held his hand up. “Twelve more, and then everyone else go for Black Skirt.” 

“I’ll vote for Red Dress. Or whatever her name is.” Carter lifted his hand, too. 

“It’s Brittany.” Red Dress murmured, shaking her head as she looked away and wiped tears out of her eyes. “And my sister’s name is Becca. I know you heard me yell it at her two seconds ago.” 

“Brittany, I’m voting for you, too.” The preteen girl nodded. “Okay?” 

Brittany laughed. “Yeah, sure. Okay. Like I’m asking for a glass of water in a restaurant or being put on hold during a phone call. Normal shit.” 

“Brittany.” The soldier called out, raising his hand. 

The quiet woman with the black hair looked sad as she raised her own hand. “Brittany.” She murmured apologetically.

The teenage girl wearing the Winnie-the-Pooh shirt shifted uncomfortably, not looking at either twin. “I… uh. Brittany.” She said softly.

“Same.” The boy in the glasses agreed, nodding. He looked at Brittany. “Sorry.”

The nervous giggler was the next to raise her hand, clearing her throat as she called out Brittany’s name. “It - it just seems prudent, to make sure there are exactly thirteen for you. It would get confusing if we threw your sister’s name in now.” She shifted.

More people chimed in, making sure that the vote was tied. Through it all, Becca stayed silent, her gaze locked on the timer. 

“I think she’s in shock.” Brittany muttered. “It’s okay. I knew this was coming. I’m kind of glad we’re going out the same way we came in, you know?” She laughed dryly. “Thank you for making it an even vote.” 

“We’ll be following you soon enough.” The woman with the bob muttered. “What, did she think she was going to be the one to survive this or something?” She asked, frowning. 

“Coming to terms with the idea that you’re going to die isn’t exactly easy.” The quiet woman chastised her. “I just want this over with.”

“So step off your circle, then.” The soldier called out. “Make it easier on the rest of us. Why is it fine to ask me to be a human sacrifice, but most of you aren’t willing to do the same thing?” He flinched when the twins hit the floor. “That zapping sound is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. However long it is. It’s at least two turns after mine.” He took a deep breath, standing up straight like he was at attention. “That girl that hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up in here.” He gestured to a young teenager with black hair. “And, uh, Winnie the Pooh.” He waved toward the girl who had tried her best to comfort Lucy. 

Winnie stared at him for a moment, and then nodded slowly, looking down and clutching one hand around a wrist.

“I don’t - w-want t-to d-die,” the other girl wailed, sobbing.

“Yeah,” Winnie agreed, folding her arms over her chest wistfully. “Living would be a pretty good thing.”

“I’m doing everyone else here a favor.” The soldier remarked. “At some point, you’re going to have to decide between yourself and a kid. And the rules are going to have to change at some point, too. All of this ‘no voting if you pick people’ is great, but what happens when you’re down to three? It’s only going to work until you’ve got four left, because you can only name two. Think about it. You get down to three people, you name two, and they vote for each other and die, leaving you the winner? Fat chance. I doubt I’ll be around that long, so I’m telling you right now, you guys had better come up with a solution. I’m not helping you.” 

“Well, should we make it another tie?” Eric looked uncertain. “If we don’t, it’ll just come back around to one of them again, later. But I don’t know if I like this. If this becomes the new normal, then we’re just naming two people we want to see gone and it’s less about being fair and more about just rushing our own deaths.” 

“Maybe we should start naming more people, instead of less.” The politician suggested, but she didn’t sound any more sure of herself than Eric did. “It actually increases someone’s odds of survival if there are more choices. And we could make a new rule? No nominating someone twice in a row. This anxiety we’re all experiencing is just making a difficult situation worse. If you’re religious, this would be the time to make your peace with God.” 

“And if you’re an atheist, you can fuck off, I’m guessing.” The cop snorted. “But it’s not a bad plan. Four people from now on, instead of two. Just vote for one of the girls now.” He looked from ‘Winnie’ to the crying teenager, then closed his eyes as he clenched his fist. He didn’t open his eyes again until he heard the zapping sound, and he sighed shakily at the sight of the sobbing girl on the floor, just before she was taken away. 

“Okay, Giggles.” The soldier nodded to the woman who had been emitting hysterical, nervous laughter every few minutes. “Go on and pick out four people.” 

“Oh, god.” ‘Giggles’ blurted, letting out another spout of laughter. She looked around at the group, prefacing her selections with, “I just - please, I want you all to know I am _so_ sorry. Really.” Taking a deep breath, she nervously pointed at each person that was her choice, going by whether she could recall them speaking out loud or not. There was a man who couldn’t be older than fifty, and then another younger man that couldn’t have been younger than seventeen. The tall, athletic-looking blonde girl was next, followed by the woman with brown hair that had voiced what everyone else had been thinking when she’d blurted out that she didn’t want to die. 

Lydia kept her head down, her gaze focused on her shoes, as she cast her vote for the woman who said she didn’t want to die. She felt awful about it, but she was also growing tired of hearing everyone saying they wanted to live. It wasn’t going to save anyone. She knew that the time would come when her name would be called out, or at least a characteristic that someone felt defined her. She wondered, idly, if she would be ‘Red Hair’ or ‘Green Shirt.’ She inhaled and exhaled through her nose, trying to stay calm, as the woman was removed from the room. She felt the floor underneath her feet rumble, just before a locking mechanism held her feet in place. Around her, the same thing was happening to everyone else. Empty circles, where other people had once stood, were receding into the floor. The two rows of people that had encircled the device became one circle instead, as the floor tiles rearranged themselves. The locking mechanisms that had kept them from falling retracted into the floor a few seconds later. 

“I guess that means we’re halfway through this. Twenty-five of us left, now.” The politician remarked, her tone calm. 

“This is your fault!” The soldier screamed. “You and all of the people like you. You gave the order and we had to obey, and now we’re all doomed to die. You should be next, and me right along with you, but I’d be dead before I got close enough to take you out. So someone else is going to have to do that for me.” 

“Whose turn is it?” The kindergarten teacher blurted. “We don’t know whose turn it is, they screwed everything up. This isn’t order, it’s pure chaos!” 

“Fuck it.” The cop muttered. “Everybody just vote for the teacher. Everyone else, shut the fuck up. If it’s not your turn to name someone, don’t fucking talk. If you want last words, have them while you have the chance, but that’s it. And we’ll start again with how we had things, once she’s gone. The guy from England can take his turn with naming people off.” 

The seconds passed quickly, and five spaces lit up: the cop, the soldier, the kindergarten teacher, the politician and Carter, the little boy who seemed wise beyond his years. 

“Nobody had better change a fucking vote.” The soldier called out. “Stand by your goddamned decisions.” 

“No. I want to know who voted for him.” The politician gestured toward the little boy. “Five of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves. If you’re brave enough to do this to him, you’re brave enough to speak up and say you did it.” A few seconds later, the lights over the boy, the soldier and the teacher faded. “Okay, so it’s just you and me.” She told the cop. 

“Try to keep the rules intact for as long as you can.” The cop looked at Eric as he spoke. “Unless more people change their minds in the next ten seconds, we’re both gone.” 

Eric nodded grimly. He spoke over the metallic clinking of the doors opening and closing to retrieve the bodies. “I’m changing the rules.” He called out. “From now on, everybody should choose three people to put up. That way, we won’t have a tie anymore. Not unless two of the people agree to it, to save the third person.” 

“Why should we listen to you?” The soldier shook his head. “Man. All the time I’ve fucking wasted... just to be made subservient to someone like you?” 

“What do you mean, someone like me?” Eric asked. 

“Don’t.” Lydia shook her head. “He’s stalling for time. Just tell us whose turn it is. We’ll listen, even if he doesn’t. And if he doesn’t follow the rules when it’s his turn, we just won’t vote. Not in his favor, at least.” 

“You do it.” Eric nodded to her. 

Lydia thought quickly, and realized there was only one real solution. “The soldier, the teacher and...” She pressed her lips together, needing a minute to compose herself. “Me.” 

“You?” Eric repeated, staring at her in disbelief.

“Honey, if you want to die, all you have to do is step off of that circle you’re standing on.” The soldier smirked. 

“I don’t.” Lydia shook her head. “But I think if I’m going to name two people to be executed, naming myself as the third is the only just action I can take. None of this is fair. It’s not meant to be fair. But we don’t have to follow the rules, as they were given to us. We can make our own. We’ll have to anyway, when this is over. And I’m still not voting.” 

“Well, thanks for murdering me, I guess.” The soldier laughed. “You do me a favor. If you make it out of here, you make sure this day becomes a national day of remembrance. You don’t let any of those fuckers out there forget.” 

“I will.” Lydia nodded. “If I make it out of here alive.” 

“Odds of that are better than they were an hour ago.” The soldier stood at attention, saluting the timer, just before he was blasted with an electric jolt.

The woman with the flapper haircut laughed suddenly. “I’m not naming myself. All of you can get me when you get me. Until then, you can waste a few more seconds of your life voting for either Hipster Glasses, Pink Shirt or Half-Mullet.” 

“Why did you choose them?” Carter frowned. 

“Because I’m sick of looking at them. Before today, I’d have said that all of them are what’s wrong with this country. The guy who buys records he’ll never listen to, the dumbass blonde, and the guy who doesn’t know when to give up on his hair ever being what he wants it to be.” The woman snorted. “I still get to make the rules for my own life. At least until it’s Ponytail’s turn, and he decides to nominate me for naming people that he thinks were a waste of effort, which just perpetuates everything we’re doing in here.” 

“But those reasons are really dumb.” Carter argued. 

“So’s the lady that came up with ‘em.” Ponytail muttered under his breath. 

There was a choked-off snort of horrified laughter from Winnie. “God, you’re just as bad as Rainbow Hair,” she muttered, staring at the wannabe flapper. She didn’t look at any of the people ‘nominated’ as she clenched her hand, visualizing who the next to die would be while trying not to throw up. She’d very much wanted to vote for that vile woman, but it would have violated the rules they’d agreed on. Instead, she’d resigned herself to voting for the older man, feeling ashamed of herself as she did. 

Letterman Jacket smirked a little as he clenched his fist to vote. Pink shirt was hot - granted, nothing could happen between them, but he’d be sorry to see someone that gorgeous go so soon. Shaking his head, he reasoned that the older guy with the sad hair would be gone soon enough, so he avoided voting for him. But he almost reveled in the satisfaction of imagining the Hipster dying. The guy looked like a douche - it was a wonder if he’d ever gotten any attention at all, looking the way he did.

The Hispanic man looked apologetically at the three people, and surreptitiously made the sign of the cross, muttering softly to himself in prayer before he squeezed his hand into a fist and cast his vote for the girl in pink.

Giggles placed a hand over her mouth, shutting her eyes unhappily. She looked toward the trio, took a deep, shaky breath, and then gripped her fist tightly as she voted, casting her mind about randomly among the three.

The guy with the sallow, drugged-out look to his face studied the others silently, then shrugged a bony shoulder. “I don’t know why you’re all being so quiet about it.” He muttered. “We’re all going to die. It’s just a matter of who gets there first, now.” His fist tightened, and he shook his head. “We might as well just go with it and make the process as easy as we can.”

“Odds aren’t better.” Lydia murmured. “They’re worse. You’re more likely to be chosen now, and die.” She cast her vote for the girl in the pink shirt, even though she didn’t want to vote for any of the choices presented to the group. 

The man beside the woman with the flapper haircut clasped his hands together in front of him as the blonde woman was removed from the room, looking around solemnly before he spoke. “I’m following Red’s lead.” He nodded to Lydia. “I nominate myself, British guy and the teacher.” 

“Again?!” The teacher whined. “Fine, but I’m voting for you. And anyone else who nominates me.” 

“If you’re out this round, that’s not much of a threat.” The man scoffed. “I guess I’ve earned myself two votes, though.” He nodded toward the British man’s closed fist. “Hey, if two of you don’t vote, the rest of you can tie all three of us with six votes, each. I’m fine with that. I knew as soon as my turn was coming up that I’d be dying soon enough, anyway.” 

Eric started delegating votes to people around the circle, declining to vote for anyone. “We need one more person to stay out of it this time, too.” 

Ponytail lifted his non-voting hand. “I’ll sit this one out.” He shook his head. “Gettin’ tired of playin’ executioner.”

“We all are.” Eric muttered. “But thank you.”

“Thank you.” The man repeated, who had just nominated himself. 

A few seconds later, Eric rubbed the back of his neck and looked around at everyone. He nodded toward Ponytail. “It’s your turn.” As the number of people dwindled, he knew that the most difficult decision was looming. 

“Sure, yeah.” Ponytail muttered, rubbing his fingers over his chin. He didn’t look very happy about his eventual decision, and sighed. “The druggie over there.” He indicated first, nodding at the man. “The dumbass with the helmet hair.” He continued, gesturing at the Italian guy. “And… me.” He smiled wryly. “Red’s got the right of it. Seems to be working so far.”

“Do we want to try for another three-way tie?” Eric asked. 

“No, let’s just vote.” The Italian man frowned. “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to argue. You’ll probably get me later, but I wouldn’t mind an extra few minutes. Even if this is pure hell.” 

“Hell is putting it mildly.” Letterman Jacket muttered. “Let’s do this already. There aren’t that many of us left, and I’d kinda like to make it to the end.”

“You think you’re going to be the one walking out of here?” Winnie-the-Pooh asked in disbelief, even as she carefully closed her fist and voted silently.

“I think that we’re all hopeful.” The Italian man pointed out. “Anybody who wants to die can either go now, or wait another twenty minutes, when this’ll probably be over with.” 

The older Hispanic man was silent for a long moment, his hands remaining open. He glanced at the others, and then exhaled. “My - my name is Hector. I worked very hard to make a life for myself and my daughters. I want to know… if I volunteer, if… if somehow my girls are alive, will whoever leaves here please find them, tell them that I love them? That I’m sorry. I’d like to give the rest of you a chance to survive.”

“What are your daughters’ names?” Eric asked, breathing in and out slowly as he fought back tears. He was just as eager for the whole thing to be over with, but he knew he needed to stay as long as he was able, to protect whoever he could.

Hector gave him a weak smile. “Luciana and Marisol Gonzalez.” He sniffed, wiping a hand over his weathered face. “Thank you.”

“It feels wrong to say that you’re welcome.” Eric shook his head. “But one of us will find them.” He assured Hector. When the timer stopped, Letterman Jacket fell to the floor, and Eric averted his gaze from Hector, to be respectful. 

Hector nodded resolutely, taking another deep breath. Lower lip trembling, he glanced around at the others once more and smiled kindly. “Good luck.” He said softly, and took a step off of his circle.

“I need a moment.” A woman spoke up, clearing her throat and repeating herself when the Italian guy yelled that he couldn’t hear her. “I’m not sure if I want to take my turn, or just step off of my circle and let someone else go. I feel almost like it’s become a responsibility to try to take someone with me, and I don’t want to do that.” She shook her head and stepped backward. 

“Shit.” Hipster Guy blurted, staring at where the woman lay in disbelief. “She did that. Why’d she do that?”

“She literally explained why she was going to do it right before she did it.” Winnie-the-Pooh muttered, keeping her gaze on the floor. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Brace yourself, then.” The druggie muttered. “There’s more crap coming.”

Giggles sniffled, the nervous laughter having disappeared. “Who… who’s next? Whose turn is it?”

“His.” Lydia pointed to the druggie. On any other day, she would have commented on his inability to pay attention. Today, that kind of remark could kill her. 

The druggie looked around warily, then nodded sharply. “Alright. Yeah. Let’s go with the bitchy lady, the blonde, and the dude with the baseball hat.”

Lydia pressed her lips together and shook her head. “If any of you vote for Eric, you’re making a mistake.” She glanced toward Carter and the preteen girl. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when it’s down to the three of you, which I’m assuming is inevitable, at this point. But I don’t see any other outcome than that. If we keep Eric, you’ve got a better chance at staying alive.” 

“The bitchy lady, then.” Autumn murmured. “She can break all the rules she wants, wherever she ends up.” 

Several other people nodded slowly in agreement. “You didn’t exactly make yourself any fans here, sweetie,” Giggles chastised, shaking her head.

The timer reset and the woman with the flapper haircut was removed from the room. The blonde girl who had been marked for death by the druggie folded her arms across her chest, eyeing everyone warily. “No matter who I choose, I want to be left alone for the next four turns.” She motioned to Eric, Autumn, Carter and the preteen girl. “I know that’s a lot to ask, but I’ll probably die right after that, anyway. I just want to have time to think. And to pray. I’m also not going to be voting for those four turns.” 

Eric looked at everyone else, thinking it over before he nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

“I am, too.” Autumn mumbled. “It narrows down the number of people I have to condemn myself to murdering. Inadvertently, but it still counts, doesn’t it?” 

“If there aren’t other choices, I might not be able to keep this promise.” Carter stared at the blonde, his eyes wide. “But I’ll try.” 

“Yeah, what he said.” The preteen muttered. 

“Then... Italian Guy, Glasses Guy and Red.” The blonde said firmly. 

“Oh, god.” The boy with the glasses moaned, putting his head in his hands. “Please don’t kill me, please.” He begged softly.

Winnie the Pooh looked frustrated. “I’m tempted to vote for you just to get you to stop being so whiny.” She muttered. Her hand clenched - despite her words, she didn’t vote for the pitiful boy with glasses. Instead, she directed her gaze toward the Italian guy and the redhead with a frown before making her decision. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the redhead. The Italian guy wouldn’t last - she was sure that even if she didn’t vote for him, someone else would seal his fate soon enough. But the redhead seemed really aware, and very smart. If the kids didn’t survive for some reason, she thought the redhead might, unless someone did otherwise. 

Lydia kept her eyes on the timer as she made a decision. The Italian guy was not going to last through the next four turns, especially since the blonde had been granted some kind of immunity in that span of time. She voted for the guy in the glasses who kept pleading for his life, but it was only in an effort to keep herself alive for a few more minutes, at least. 

The Italian guy had just enough time to utter, “Fu-” when he was zapped by a jolt of electricity. 

Eric looked around, calculating odds. “What’s your name?” He asked the blonde girl. 

“Bridget. Why?” The blonde frowned. “You said you weren’t going to put me up! You said I got four turns where I was safe!” 

“I did.” Eric agreed. “Calm down. I just wanted to address you by name in what I’m about to say. Bridget has changed the game for us, a little. I can’t suggest anyone who granted her the three turns after me, of safety. And I also can’t suggest her. So that really doesn’t leave me with many options. Drug addict, Glasses and Ponytail.” 

“Gee, I wonder who I’m voting for.” The preteen rolled her eyes. 

Two minutes passed as Bridget kept her head bowed, her hands clasped together. The only time she reacted to the noises around her, it was when two zapping sounds interrupted her praying. She glanced up to see the hipster and the drug addict on the floor, then went back to what she was doing. 

“Same thing Eric said.” Autumn began. “I can’t name Eric, Bridget or the kids. Not that I would have suggested the kids, anyway. I’m going to pick different people than he did.” She sighed. “Obviously. Shut up, Autumn. Can’t name dead people. So... Winnie, Giggles and teenage boy whose name I don’t know.” She gestured to the guy who had been silent pretty much the entire time. 

Lydia hadn’t missed the way that the girl in the Winnie the Pooh shirt kept eyeing her, and she knew who she had to vote for. Even one more round would be too much of a risk that the brunette would ensure Lydia’s death. She just hoped her vote made a difference. 

Ponytail shook his head, sighing as he cast his vote - he felt bad for doing so, but the way Giggles kept nervously expelling a laugh every few minutes had him on edge already. He couldn’t imagine how it might have been affecting everyone else.

Chloe, known to the others as Winnie-The-Pooh, felt her hands start shaking, even as she cast her gaze over the others steadily. If she died, she died. That was fine. But it wasn’t bravery for her, not by a long shot. She was so utterly terrified that she had to struggle to keep herself from accidentally letting go of the control she had on her bladder, like the old woman at the beginning of this nightmare. 

Lydia shuddered as the girl who had been determined to end her life was removed from the room. She felt like she was a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train as her gaze immediately went to the young boy beside Autumn. 

Carter rubbed one of his eyes. “I’m sorry to do this.” He looked over at the silent teenage boy. “Everyone needs to vote for him.” He pointed. “We don’t know what he’s thinking and he could go against what we’re all trying to do. If we all vote for him, we know he’ll be gone.” 

“That’s a good plan.” Eric assured the little boy, feeling sick to his stomach. The inevitable moment was getting closer, and he gave Autumn a helpless look as he wondered what they were supposed to do when someone had to either vote for a kid or kill themselves. 

Autumn shook her head sadly and stepped off of her platform, ignoring Eric’s scream of protest. 

The teenage boy dropped dead a second later. 

The preteen girl wrapped her arms around herself and looked around. She leaned forward like she was going to follow Autumn into the afterlife, but she shook her head at herself and stood up straight. “Um. Um. No.” She muttered, barely acknowledging anyone else’s existence in the room. “Giggles, Baldy and Ponytail. I’m sorry, but not? I want to feel bad, but I think I’m kind of doing you guys a favor, at this point. I know that having me and Carter here makes everything harder. I don’t want to die. I’m sorry for that, too. It’s such a stupid thing to say. I just think that Eric will save us to the very end and I promised not to pick Bridget, and I can’t pick Carter because he just went.” She eyed Lydia. “I don’t know about you.” She admitted. “But I can only pick three people.” 

“I’m going to try to save you.” Lydia glanced at Giggles, then turned her head to look at the balding man near her, before she looked back at the preteen. “I can’t protect you for the next five minutes, though.” 

“Well, unless someone else pulls a Carter,” the preteen glanced at the boy and rolled her eyes, even though her expression was fond, “There will be three people to choose from. Just pick the one that isn’t either of us.” She gestured to herself and the boy. 

Lydia cast her vote for the balding man, to get rid of an uncertain variable between the children and freedom. “What happens if I’m the third one?” She asked, her gaze on the ceiling as her voice shook. 

“Depends on who else is left.” The preteen muttered. The three adults she had named were left with lights shining over their heads. “Oh my god, nobody change it, please!” She blurted. 

Bridget’s voice rose over the sound of three zaps and subsequent thumps, and she lifted her head and opened her eyes. The outcome didn’t surprise her. “Thank you.” She nodded to Eric, Carter and the preteen girl, whose name she had never bothered to learn. She sighed. “The two kids.” She said sadly. “I’m not willing to name myself and I don’t think it’s fair to name the other two people my age, just because we’re not children.” 

“Then we don’t have to vote for each other.” The preteen pointed out, nodding to the boy. “If I vote for one of them and you vote for another, it’s a four way tie.” 

“And if Bridget still avoids voting, then she wins because it’s a four-way tie.” Lydia remarked. 

“Not if one of us votes for her.” The preteen retorted. 

“Wait!” Eric blurted. 

“No,” Carter said softly, shaking his head. “We can’t. It’s down to us now. We’re it - we’re the only ones. We have to make the hard decisions now, because if we don’t, we’ll just be going ‘round and ‘round in circles, and we’ll all get picked off anyway.” He hesitated, preparing to clench his hand before looking at Eric. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“If you’re going to do this, we should decide which of us gets to live.” Eric looked over at Lydia. “It’s either you or me, because I don’t think Glasses is going to change her vote from being Bridget.” 

“The politician lied.” Bridget interjected. “I woke up while some _thing_ was putting the device in my hand. The government didn’t do this to us. I don’t want to get out of here alive. I don’t want these kids to have to deal with whatever is out there. But all of us agreeing to keep them until the end got rid of the adults who would have been fine killing kids, so even if I’m going to die, I saved them for as long as I could. I feel pretty good about that.” 

Carter gave Bridget a faint smile, taking a deep breath. “Thank you. But… I think we know that it’s not going to matter now. I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on outside of here. Wherever here is. I -“ his voice caught in his throat and he sniffled. “I miss my mom and dad. And I don’t even know if they’re still alive. Chances are, they probably aren’t, and… if they aren’t, then I don’t wanna win. I don’t even know if I’d survive for long out there without them. Someone else might not have a problem with… not keeping a kid alive.” He fell silent, chewing on his lower lip, and then said softly, “Does… does anyone else have a reason to make it out? If - if the government didn’t do this to us, then… I don’t think I want to face whatever it was that did. But maybe someone else can?” He looked around at the others hopefully.

“It’s you or me.” Eric told Lydia. “I’m leaving this up to you. I know that’s a lot. I’m okay.” 

“Vote.” Lydia muttered. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry. I don’t want to die. I don’t know what’s after this, but I’m - I’m sorry.” 

“Bridget.” The preteen girl said firmly. 

“Glasses.” Bridget clenched her fist. 

“Carter.” Eric murmured. 

Carter swallowed hard. His eyes darted between Eric, Lydia, Bridget and Harper, and he suddenly knew that if he took his fate out of their hands now, the outcome might change. He didn’t want that. Staring at Bridget, he nodded at her. “Thank you, again. I’m sorry.” He clenched his fist. 

Lydia still expected to be one of the final casualties, so when she was the last one left alive, she wasn’t sure what to do. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she was certain that she lost her mind. But she darted off of her circle and grabbed Eric’s hat, then the preteen’s glasses. From Bridget, she took a cross necklace, and turned to look at Carter, her hands trembling. She glanced down at them, uncertain. It seemed trivial now, and like a wasted effort. But she wanted something to remind her of the people who had spared her life. It didn’t matter that her future was uncertain, just beyond the doorway. The fact that their bodies were still there meant that someone had to be monitoring her, wondering what she was thinking. She was sure of that, at least. In the end, she ended up removing a shoelace from one of Carter’s shoes and stuffing it into her pocket, along with the necklace from Bridget. The door opened and she waited a few seconds, but nobody approached her. As she walked toward the doorway, she thought about the fact that she had known who Eric was, and had chosen to say nothing to him about it. She wondered if he had recognized her at all. If he had, he hadn’t indicated as much. If any of the Hales had survived, she was going to have to tell them. She _wanted_ to tell them.

In the room beyond the one she had been held in, a team of three beings, their skin the color of Army men Lydia had played with as a child, were operating controls and barely paying any attention to her. One of them pointed to a chair and went back to what he - assuming the creature was male - had been doing. 

Lydia sat down, too overwhelmed to dare asking any questions. She wasn’t entirely certain that she would survive it, if she tried. For all she knew, one word from her would be cause for them to kill her. 

“You should fasten your seatbelt.” One of the creatures told her, smiling kindly. “We’ll talk on the way.”


End file.
